Элисон Ноэль - Blue Moon

I turn away and head for the other side of the store, browsing a rack of push-up bras and corsets, telling myself: Ignore her, ignore her Just focus on shopping and she'll go away.

But Stacia's not going anywhere. Instead, she grabs hold of my arm and pulls me right to her, saying, "Come on, don't be shy. Show her. Show Honor what a freak you are!"

Her eyes stare into mine, sending a flood of disturbing dark energy coursing right through me as she squeezes my arm so tight her thumb and index finger practically meet. And I know she's trying to bait me, incite me, aware of exactly what I'm capable of after that time when I lost control in the hallway at school. Only that time she didn't do it on purpose —she had no idea what I could do.

Honor starts to fidget, standing beside her and whining, "Come on, Stacia. Let's go. This is bor -ing."

But Stacia ignores her and grips my arm harder, her nails pressing into my flesh as she whispers, "Go on, tell her. Tell her what you see!"

I close my eyes, my stomach swirling as my head fills with images similar to the ones I saw before: Stacia scratching and clawing her way to the top of the popularity pyramid, stomping much harder than necessary on all those beneath her. Including Honor, especially Honor, who's so afraid of being unpopular she does nothing to stop it... I could tell her what a horrible friend Stacia really is, expose her for the awful person I know her to be. .. . I could pry Stacia's hand from my arm and fling her across the room so hard she'd fly straight through the plate glass window before crashing into the mall directory....

Only I can't. The last time I let loose at school, when I told Stacia all the awful things I know about her, it was a colossal mistake —one I don't have the luxury of making again. There's so much more to hide now, much bigger secrets at stake—secrets that belong not only to me but to Damen as well. Stacia laughs as I fight to stay calm and not overreact. Reminding myself that while appearing weak is okay, giving in to weakness is definitely not. It's absolutely imperative to appear normal, clueless, and allow her the illusion that she's so much stronger than me. Honor checks her watch, rolling her eyes, wanting to leave. And just as I'm about to pull away, and maybe even accidentally backhand Stacia while I'm at it, I see something so awful, so repulsive, I knock an entire rack of lingerie to the floor in an attempt to break free.

Bras, thongs, hangers, and fixtures —all of it crashing to the ground in one big heap. With me as the cherry on top.

"O. Migawd!" Stacia shrieks, grabbing hold of Honor as they fall all over themselves laughing at me. "You are such a freakin' spaz !" she says, going straight for her cell so she can capture it all on video. Zooming in to get close-up footage of me attempting to break free of a red lace garter belt that's wrapped around my neck. "Better get crackin' and get this cleaned up!" She squints, adjusting her angle as I struggle to stand. "You know what they say, you break it, you buy it!" I get to my feet, watching as Stacia and Honor bolt for the door the moment a salesperson arrives. Stacia pausing long enough to glance over her shoulder and say, "I'm watching you, Ever. Believe me, I'm not through with you yet." Before running away.

CHAPTER 10

The moment I sense Damen turning onto my street, I run to the mirror (again) and fidget with my clothes, making sure everything is right where it should be —the dress, the bra, the new lingerie—and hoping it all stays in place (well, at least until it's time to come off).

After the Victoria's Secret salesgirl and I cleaned up the mess, she helped me choose this really pretty matching bra and panty set that isn't made of cotton, isn't embarrassingly sexy, and doesn't actually support or cover much of anything, but then I guess that's the point. Then I moved on to Nordstrom where I bought this pretty green dress and some cute strappy wedges to go with it. And on the way home I stopped for a quick manicure/pedicure, which is something I haven't done since, well, since before the accident that robbed me of my old life forever —when I used to be popular and girly like Stacia.

Only I was never really like Stacia.

I mean, I may have been popular and a cheerleader, but I was never a bitch.

"What are you thinking?" Damen asks, having let himself in and coming straight up to my room since Sabine's not at home.

I gaze at him, watching as he leans against the doorjamb and smiles. Taking in his dark jeans, dark shirt, dark jacket, and the black motorcycle boots he always wears and feeling my heart skip two beats.

"I was thinking about the last four hundred years," I say, cringing when his eyes grow dark and worried.

"But not in the way that you think," I add, eager to assure him I wasn't obsessing over his past yet again.

"I was thinking about all of our lifetimes together, and how we never ... um ..."

He lifts his brow as a smile plays at his lips.

"I guess I'm just glad those four hundred years are over," I mumble, watching as he moves toward me, slips his arms around my waist, and pulls me tight to his chest. My eyes grazing over the planes of his face, his dark eyes, smooth skin, his irresistible lips, drinking all of him in.

"I'm glad too," he says, his eyes teasing mine. "Nope, on second thought, scratch that, because the truth is, I'm more than glad. In fact —I'm ecstatic." He smiles, but a moment later he's merging his brows, saying, "No, that still doesn't explain it. I think we need a new word." He laughs, lowering his mouth to my ear as he whispers, "You are more beautiful tonight than you've ever been. And I want everything to be perfect. I want it to be everything you dreamed it would be. I just hope I don't disappoint you."

I balk, pulling away to gaze at his face, wondering how he could even think such a thing, when all of this time it's been me who's been worried about disappointing him .

He places his finger under my chin, lifting my face until my lips meet his. And I kiss him back with such fervor, he pulls away and says, "Maybe we should head straight for the Montage instead?"

"Okay," I murmur, my lips seeking his. Regretting the joke when he pulls away and I see how hopeful he is.

"Except that we can't. Miles will kill me if I miss his debut." I smile, waiting for him to smile too.

Only he doesn't. And when he looks at me with his face so drawn and serious, I know I strayed too close to the truth. All of my lives have always ended on this night —the night we'd planned to be together. And even though I don't remember the details, he clearly does.

But then just as quickly his color's returned and he takes my hand when he says, "Well, lucky for us you're quite unkillable now, so there's nothing that can keep us apart."

The first thing I notice as we head for our seats is that Haven's sitting beside Roman. Taking full advantage of Josh's absence by pressing her shoulder against his and cocking her head in a way that allows her to gaze up at him adoringly and smile at everything he says. The second thing I notice is that my seat is also beside Roman's. Only unlike Haven, I'm not at all thrilled. But since Damen's already claimed the outside seat, and I don't want to make a big show of moving, I reluctantly sink down onto mine. Feeling the invasive push of Roman's energy as his eyes peer into mine —his attention so focused on me, I can't help but squirm.

I gaze around the mostly full theater, trying to get my mind off of Roman and am relieved when I see Josh heading down the aisle, clad in his usual tight black jeans, studded belt, crisp white shirt, and skinny checkered tie, his arms loaded down with candy and bottles of water as his black swoop of hair Hops into his eyes. And I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief, seeing how perfect he and Haven are for each other, and I'm thrilled that he's not been replaced. "Water?" he asks, plopping onto the seat on Haven's other side and passing two bottles my way. I take one for myself and try to pass the other to Damen, but he just shakes his head and sips his red drink.